


The Importance of Trust

by HiraKiaShi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Also more wyverns, Drabble, M/M, Potential Spoilers, Wyverns, claude and Cyril need more interractions, claude would die for Lorenz basically, cyril-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 08:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20423006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiraKiaShi/pseuds/HiraKiaShi
Summary: At the border between Fodlan and Almyra, Claude and Cyril take a moment to collect themselves before returning to their homeland for reinforcements.Cyril recalls bitter memories, and questions Claude’s trust in others.





	The Importance of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on a Cyril-centric fiction and decided to go ahead and post small tidbits that I couldn’t fit in anywhere, or my rambling turned it into something different.  
This is one of those moments.  
Albatross is Claude’s Wyvern, the reason being explained in a later story, and Aleios is Cyril’s Wyvern, who also now seems to have a story of her own going on.

They sat under the stars that night. Purple blending to orange as the sun died behind the mountain range. Stars bright, too impatient to wait for the light to finally fade to show themselves. 

The two wyverns, Aleios and Albatross, stepped through the grass, resting their tired wings. Albatross more of leaping through it, while the elder stared at him with stoic attention.  
The white wyvern hopped around like an energetic crow, light reflecting off its white scales. The creature brought plenty of attention to itself, that was certain. Cyril wondered how it survived in the wild for so long. Any creature could see the outstanding porcelain scales from miles away.  
His own wyvern sometimes seemed to consider the same thing. Aleios was old, Only the Goddess would know how old at this point, and some of the scars and missing black and brown scales that dated back from before Cyril even stepped foot in Fodlan. She was old, and wild in ways that screamed ‘untameable.’

But Cyril did, and he was proud of that. 

Cyril watched albatross trip up over itself, and with a flurry of white wings and an indignant grunt, it fell into a heap.  
Cyril chuckled at the sight. Aleios only shook her head.  
‘Runt.’

A heavy hand on the shoulder pulled him back to Claude.  
“Here. It’s not much, but it’ll be enough til’ we reach the city.” 

Cyril took the tiny bag that held no more than cheese and bread. This would, without a doubt, in no possible way, be enough to reach the city.  
Still, they were too exhausted to hunt, so they ate quietly. Protests kept to themselves. They watched Albatross try to get Aleios to wrestle to no avail. 

“So, what’re your plans?” Cyril asked, “Walk to the biggest guy there, beat him to a pulp and go ‘hey, join my cause!’”  
Claude laughed and shook his head.  
“In a shot, Summarized way, yeah. Except the big guy is already on our side.”  
Cyril remembered the battlescarred man that Claude called his retainer. Skin too tanned to be of Fodlan, and eyes that told stories if you stared long enough.  
“Narder.” 

Claude nodded. Cyril has recognized the undefeated the second he saw him, the false name Nardel may have well been a joke to him. 

Still, it threw Cyril off so much at first, that he stayed in the doorway as Claude introduced Byleth to him. In no way did he want to speak to the Almyra hero.  
The way Cyril bristled, Claude didn’t force him to shake hands with the General. Cyril still seemed to run from his past.  
Despite that, Cyril volunteered to join him on his travel to Almyra. 

“I’m honestly surprised you agreed to come with me,” he paused, thinking, “You were never the fondest of.. Almyra..” 

Cyril averted his gaze. He stared at their mounts nestled beside each other under the tree. Their mouths were widely opened and raised to the sky, shaking side to side in a soft playful manner that said ‘companion.’ 

“It.. wasn’t easy. When I lived there, I was no more than a rat. My parents died in battle when I was young, and my big brother passed shortly after.” 

Cyril closed his eyes, whispering words of the townsfolk from more than seven years ago filling his thoughts.  
Don’t take him in  
Orphan’s curse.  
He has the illness too.  
He won’t make it through the winter.  
We can’t afford another mouth to feed.

“You know how they treat orphans there.”  
“So you ran away.”  
“I became a soldier and came to Fodlan’s throat. The second I had the chance, I ran farther. Almyra held nothing for me. At least here I could ignore my past. Discard it.” 

He remembers the arrows to his back, Almyran and Fodlan feathers along their shafts. He was a traitor. He remembers how he kept running.  
When he finally fell at the gate, he had looked up at the General himself.  
He remembers the man had a cold stare. Who, despite Hilda’s loving perspective of him, looked like he would crush Cyril’s skull in like the worthless pest he was. He doesn’t know why he didn’t, but the hilt of a sword on his head made him forget everything else. 

A chill ran up his spine. He could almost feel the silver metal colliding against his forehead again. It aches.  
Change the topic. Now.

“So, you entrusted Lorenz to hold everything down while we are gone?”  
He forced himself to relax, stretching his legs in the grass, and breathing deeply. Claude must have caught the signs, because he took the new topic easily. 

“Well someone needed to,” Claude mumbled around a mouthful.  
“So you chose the guy who can’t stand your leadership or the fact you exist? Wouldn’t Byleth been a better option?” 

Claude swallowed the last of his bread.

“Byleth has her hands full as she plays archbishop. She probably is still trying to stretch herself thinner as we speak. Lorenz will more than gladly force her to take a breather. He isn’t as cold as he seems, you know.”

Claude threw the last bite of cheese to Albatross, but a more prepared Aleios caught it before the other could react.  
“He’s stubborn, and judges before presenting the case but.. well, putting it bluntly, I would trust Lorenz with my life.” 

“He would crush it between his fingers,” Cyril warned, “ He had his eyes on your position before you came in as the rightful heir. He’d be happier if you stayed in Almyra...Maybe you should reevaluate your trust before you get yourself killed..”  
“I’m not dead yet,” Claude responded, But Cyril has already gotten up, setting up a tent for the night. 

Claude stayed out longer, enjoying the world around him. How many times had Lorenz saved his life now? More than he could count. But that didn’t have to be said. Not many knew about their travels together in the five years. 

Claude owed a world of debt to Lorenz. And if one day he really needed to lay is life before the man, his beating heart in that gloved palm, he would do it without a doubt his in his mind.  
And if Lorenz crushed it, Claude would thank him. Because if there was a moment in his life where Lorenz found the need to do so, surely Claude was no longer himself.  
Lorenz was judgemental, so much so that it almost unserved Claude in the beginning, but it was protectiveness. Of his family, his nobility, and those less fortunate than himself.  
He was much more caring than Claude could be. Before meeting Cyril, he never realized how much the common folk struggled beneath his nose.  
Cyril opened his eyes to that.  
Lorenz showed him how to fix it. 

Lorenz, despite his father’s choice, still stood by Claude’s cause. So it was noble enough for the man.  
If Claude bore his soul, and Lorenz found it unclean, the dark knight could burn it to ashes.  
He didn’t want a soul that was unworthy to him anyways. 

Albatross gave a low rumble, and he finally stood to set up his own tent for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Its well past midnight posting this, so please let me know if any errors you might have come across.


End file.
